“I…” Harry said, blinking.
Seriously. He looked like a china doll, not a real man. How could he ever want that? Harry wasn’t even all that handsome. He was cute and pretty, but objectively, his face was too strange to call it handsome.
“I…” Harry said, his voice hoarse and expression dazed.
Following Harry’s gaze, Adam realized Harry was staring at his bare chest and half-opened fly. The raw need in his eyes was hard to mistake for anything else.
Adam laughed. “Seriously?”
He couldn’t fucking believe it. “Is that what you came for? My dick?”
Harry flushed. “You d-don’t understand.”
“You’re right: I don’t,” Adam bit off before turning around and heading to the couch. He sat on it and looked at Harry, who had followed him dazedly into the flat.
The little shit was still looking at his crotch, as if it held all the answers in the world. Cold rage bubbled through Adam’s veins. He’d nearly drunk himself into oblivion because of Harry, but apparently all Harry wanted was his cock. Nice.
“Is that really what you came for?” Adam said and barely recognized his voice, so ugly it was.
Harry licked his lips. “I...”
“You know what?” Adam said, pulling his fly open. “Fine.” Despite the rage inside him, he was hard. Of course he was when Harry was looking at his cock like he was gagging for it. If Harry had come for a quick, nasty fuck, who was he to deny him that? Maybe that would finally make him forget the last and only time they’d made love—had fucked. Had fucked. That was all it had been.
“You want my cock?” Adam leaned back against the couch, looking hard at Harry. “Come sit on it.”
Harry literally swayed on his feet, his eyes still fixed on Adam’s crotch. Christ, he looked almost drugged, his expression needy and his eyes glazed.
“I...” Harry said, taking a step to the couch, and then another. “We need to talk.” And yet, despite his words, he was straddling Adam’s lap and taking Adam’s cock into his shaking hands.
Fuck.
Adam took a breath through his gritted teeth, unable to believe Harry was actually doing this.
His hands twitched and he gripped the couch to stop himself from touching Harry. Fuck, he felt like a starved man forcing himself not to eat the feast laid out before him. The feast was only deceptively sweet. It was fucking poisonous. He’d barely put himself together last time. He wasn’t doing it again.
Adam hissed as Harry squeezed his cock with both hands. “We r-really need to talk,” Harry stuttered, sounding completely out of it, before suddenly whining and hiding his face in Adam’s chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I can’t—I need it too much.” He nuzzled his cheek into Adam’s bare chest before latching onto his nipple and sucking hungrily, his hands stroking Adam’s cock greedily. Adam bit his lip hard, his fingers burying in Harry’s hair while Harry sucked on Adam’s nipple like a hungry baby, moaning and writhing on Adam’s lap, trying to wriggle out of his sweatpants—or at least what looked like sweatpants but was made of a strange smooth fabric.
Finally, Harry managed it and straddled his lap again, naked from below the waist, and ground his ass against his cock.
Adam hissed. Harry whined.
Adam bit the inside of his cheek, trying to regain some semblance of control. He should push Harry away and throw him out of his flat. He should, instead of thinking about where to get condoms and lube. But as he looked at Harry’s flushed, dazed face, the harsh words that had been on the tip of Adam’s tongue got stuck in his throat.
Before Adam realized what was happening, Harry was sinking down onto his cock.
Adam’s eyes widened. He swore through his teeth. He was clean, but it was still irresponsible as hell. They shouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be doing this for so many reasons. Good reasons. One of them being that fucking without lube was never a good idea.
“Wait, Haz—” But Harry wasn’t dry. He was so fucking slick already, wet tightness enveloping his cock as Harry moaned, a wrecked expression on his face, pink lips slack and eyes glazed.
What the fuck. How—why—
Adam tried to ask, tried to speak, tried to think, but all rational thought left his brain when Harry started riding him. All he could think about was Harry, Harry, Harry, and want, want, want.
He could only stare at Harry, feeling drugged and rendered speechless by the sight of him.
Harry was biting his lips, an almost pained expression on his face as he rode Adam clumsily, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his lovely thighs trembling with effort.
Their eyes met and locked.
“Adam,” Harry said breathlessly, sliding his hands up Adam’s chest and curling them around Adam’s neck. “Please.”
“What?” Adam croaked, feeling his barriers coming down one after another the longer Harry looked at him.